


A Date With Hitchcock

by ClaireFisher



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: F/M, Hitchcock's Movies, Post 5x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireFisher/pseuds/ClaireFisher
Summary: When Shawn wakes up in a strange place with no clue of what happened to him, and with the life of his friends hanging in his hands, he will do whatever it takes to save them all without getting killed in the process.
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter & Shawn Spencer, Henry Spencer & Shawn Spencer, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 22
Kudos: 36





	1. Rear Window

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is my first fanfiction for the Psych fandom. I love this show so much and after watching it so many times I decided to share my own view of it :) I also love Hitchcock's movies so I thought, why not put them together on a story?
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it and, please, if you feel like, leave a comment. I'm gonna love reading your opinion!
> 
> For clarification, this story is set post-ep 5x09 but considering that ep 4x16 never happed so Jules was never kidnapped by Mr. Yin and Abigail never came back.

Shawn blinked a few times, his vision still black and blurred, the bitter and metallic taste in his mouth making it hard to swallow. He could feel pain but couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. His mind drifting between reality and a fuzzy frightening dimension. 

What had happened? 

With a deep breath, he tried to put his thoughts in order, attempting to retrace the last moments he remembered. Unsuccessfully, he sighed, fear overcoming his heart as his mind, often so powerful and fast, was now confused with incoherent scenes. 

He tried to move, only to find it impossible as his hands were restrained at the chair’s restarms and his feet at the chair’s legs. That realization awoke him a bit, causing him to regain more consciousness. Blinking harder, Shawn cleared his vision, the throbbing pain in his head making concentration a difficult job. A dim light rested on his face, dragging his attention towards a rusty window. 

Shawn tried to move again, but the metal restraints, that for a second he confused with silver tape, weren’t easy to break free of. He closed his eyes again, this time trying his best to retrace his steps. 

He was back at his apartment. Alone. Someone had called him...Who? Maybe…. His sneakers… He wasn’t wearing them when... 

A phone call woke him up. 

That call...There was an urge in it, he could remember that. 

Who called? 

The taste in his mouth… Bitter…. Just like… Poison. 

He was poisoned. 

Shawn opened his eyes again, this time more focused, more lucid. He glanced at the window facing an old building with multiple empty apartments, all windows covered with different types of curtains. 

Why was he there?

Changing his vision, he inspected the place he was confined. A bedroom. A small bed with white sheets, glowing under the moonlight. Moonlight. It was still night. The yellow curtains of his window were pulled up, and from his position, Shawn could see the entire space outside, the small garden below, with growing red and yellow flowers, the fire escapes, the street a few feet away, an old green car parked just out front. He was on the second floor. 

That was so familiar, almost like he had seen it all before. That same building, those curtains… Almost like a dejá vú. 

Looking down at himself, he realized he still was in his pajamas, his cold feet stating him he was without any footwear. That’s why he remembered his sneakers.

But who had called?

Each movement was painful as if he was punched all over his body and then run over by a trunk. Probably, that was a side effect of the poisoning. The position he was tied was extremely uncomfortable, especially the thin seat his body was rested against. Shawn realized, seconds later, that he was tied in a wheelchair. 

Wheelchair... 

So familiar. He knew that. 

Who called? Why was he there?

The previous panic in his heart increased as Shawn couldn’t put the pieces together. That never happens. There’s no puzzle he can’t solve. What happened? Why was he there? 

Struggling to set himself free, he tried to push his body out of the chair, even knowing it would be impossible. The pain was excruciating, and once more he had to close his eyes, clenching his teeth, waiting for the hurtful wave to pass. 

Going against all his father’s advice, he screamed.

“HELLO! WHO IS THERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

No response came and Shawn gave up on his battle to free himself. He had to calm down, to think straight, to put the puzzle together. With deep breaths he controlled his heartbeat, clearing his mind in order to piece up all the contents he had seen to form a concise clue. 

Observing the room once again, he realized a 60’s camera resting at the nightstand, accompanied by binoculars. 

The camera…

His eyes widened as he finally put all together. 

Rear Window.

Hitchcock.

He was in a Hitchcock's movie.

A dry and emotionless laugh escaped from his lips. 

Shawn couldn’t believe it. 

He must be dreaming, that wasn’t true. 

Tightening his eyes, he tried to vanish with the realization, trying to wake himself up from that nightmare. 

It wasn’t real. 

It couldn’t be.

For the last two weeks, the SBPD had been tracking down a murderer, a mystery shadow who used Alfred Hitchcock’s canon to choose and kill his victims. Different from other serial killers, this one, entitled Sixty, as his signatures indicated on the letters he sent to the Department, had very elaborate and complex assassinations, with no patterns on the victims but all of them killed under the premise of Hitchcock’s movies. 

He remembered Chief Vick’s worried eyes, her frustration at each coming letter, and the fact that none of them could prevent Sixty’s next move, even knowing his theme. It was becoming hard for Shawn to maintain his façade as a psychic when he couldn’t predict the murder’s steps nor how he would attack. The five bodies, being so apart in shape, age, and sex, didn’t allow any solid conclusions, and all evidence was circumstantial. The letters, written in a typewriter, only compliments to the Chief, sadic congratulations to the good job the Department was doing. Safe to say that the Superior had Gus supplying her with sleeping pills and her cup of coffee was never empty. 

Often Shawn would look through her glass doors, capturing her with her head buried in her hands, the stress visible and the poor slept nights denounced by the purple bags under her eyes. That case was consuming her, just like it was consuming Shawn. Sure he wasn’t as preoccupied as her, but he had his fair share on that matter, as every time he looked at the people he cared about, at their faces, his blood curdled in fright. 

He couldn’t let them get hurt. 

Who called?

Once again Shawn screamed. 

HEY! HEY! WHERE AM I? HEY!

Suddenly his restrainers opened, releasing him. Shawn stretched his limbs, trying to regain his circulation, and put himself up. His legs were a bit numb and he stumbled a few steps before being able to walk properly. He ran to the grey front door, his hand on the knob, pulling and pushing, trying to open it. Of course, it was locked. He slammed the wooden piece a few times before throwing his body against it. None of the attempts were successful and he ended only more sore than before. 

HEY! LET ME OUT! WHAT DO YOU WANT? 

He turned, scanning the room, looking for clues, scapes, lights, trails, anything. 

The moonlight was still illuminating the small space, coating it all with a silver glow, projecting frightening shadows on the walls. The air inside thickening at each step Shawn would give, his mind still incapable to recall all the details or to form any conclusions. He slammed the walls, and although he realized they were hollow, like the ones used on scenarios of movies and theaters, they were firmly constructed. The windows were composed of bulletproof glass, Shawn could tell by the slight difference in his reflection projected on it. 

He approached the nightstand, picking the camera in his hands. He checked it, looking for clues but none appeared. He then moved to the binoculars. Still not a thing. 

Who called?

A sharp pain crossed Shawn’s head, making him stop at his feet, grabbing the edge of the bed, supporting his weight as his legs failed in doing so. The poison was still in his system, scrambling his mind and perception. A few breaths later he straightened himself up, confident enough that his feet could drag him around. He noticed another door, at the left corner. Opening it he found it to be a closet with a single hanger. There, a fine suit and a blue tie. A note attached to it.

> **Hello Mr. Spencer,**
> 
> **Finally, I had the pleasure to make your acquaintance.**
> 
> **The night it’s just beginning and as my guest I could only offer you a fine dinner.**
> 
> **But, naturally, pajamas aren’t the most desirable dressing code to a pleasant meal.**
> 
> **Care to change and join me on this memorable night.**
> 
> **Sixty**

Shawn felt his stomach drop at his toes, another sharp pain waved through his head. His trembly hands mashed the paper, throwing it to the side. He reached for the suit, finding it to be his exact size. Whoever this guy was, he had been close, observing him, studying him. 

Who called?

It was a fine suit, he could feel the soft fabric between his fingers and, if on other occasions, he would brag about how insanely handsome he would look on that piece, “sizzling” to be more precise. 

Now, it only reminded him of funerals. 

Reluctant at first, to follow the rules of his own kidnapper, but seeing no other way around, Shawn stripped from his pajamas and suited up. He found the matching shoes hidden under the bed, and if there was anything positive in that situation was that his feet were now warm. 

The wind outside was hissing, creeping under the crevice of the door, the branches from a nearby tree hitting one of the panels of the window, causing a terrifying noise to echo on that dead silent apartment. 

Now fully dressed Shawn returned to the wheelchair, examining it, searching for buttons, wires that may have been attached to it, and trying to understand the mechanisms behind the way he was released from his trap. 

Who called?

Inside a pocket hidden under the chair, Shawn found another note. 

> **Really good,**
> 
> **I see the suit fits you perfectly.**
> 
> **Now it is time for a proper dinner.**
> 
> **But while it's being prepared, please, enjoy the view.**

Shawn dropped the paper, reaching for the binoculars as he rushed to the window. The curtains from the other apartments, previously closed, were now open and, one by one, the lights were turned on. At the instant sight, Shawn’s stomach revolved, his head hammering against his skull, his legs giving up, his knees hitting the floor beneath him. 

There they all were. 

Trapped, cloistered in those tiny rooms, so meticulously similar to Hitchcock’s picture. 

On the top floor was his father, in a white undershirt and cream pants, holding a briefcase. In the next apartment was Lassiter, sat down by the piano, his hands on the keys but no sound coming out of them. On the ground floor, Gus was sat by a table set for two, candles lit up and empty plates in front of him. At the right corner was Chief Vick, dressed in a pink satin dress, a glass in her hands. 

Their emotionless faces scared Shawn even more. Like dead living bodies, they stayed in their positions, no muscle moved, hollow eyes stiffened small movements. 

His blood turned into ice, his hands closed in fists, knuckles white, his mouth pressed in a thin line, his eyes greener than ever. He was scared, frightened but even more, he was furious. Shawn was ready to take down that killer with his bare hands. One thing was to mess with him, another was to mess with the people he cared about.

The people he loved.

Love.

Something was off.

Where was Juliet?

Who called?

Juliet! 

Shawn’s heart stopped, no blood running, no one outside, silence filling his entire being. 

_ “Shawn? Hello?” _

_ “Ju...Jules? Wha...Are you okay? What time is it?” _

_ “Shawn! I’m fine! I…” _

_ He could hear the fear in her voice, the quivering in her words. _

_ “Jules, what’s wrong? Tell me! Now!” _

_ “Shawn, it’s Sixty. The Chief received another letter.” _

_ Her deep breaths could be heard through the phone and he could swear he heard her accelerated heartbeats. _

_ “Juliet!” _

_ “Shawn, I think you are in danger. Please, stay where you are, we’re gonna come pick you.” _

_ “Hey...hey! Jules! I’m fine. I’m in my apartment. Everything is okay.” _

_ “But…” _

_ “Hey! Don’t worry, nothing is gon…” _

_ He felt the sharp pain in his neck, the needle perforating his skin. He dropped on the floor, his vision already blackening. His hearing was the last thing to vanish. Through his phone, he could hear her scream his name, desperation in her voice, more painful than anything he has ever felt.  _

_ “SHAWN? SHAWN! PLEASE!” _

_ He remembered listening to a second voice, her despair becoming pure fear before the phone went dead and his last strand of consciousness ripped. _

Pure anger came boiling from inside his chest, causing Shawn to regain his strength. He rushed to the door, furious punches hitting it, making his hands hurt, but for him painless in comparison to the killing fear inside his heart.

Anyone but Juliet. 

Not Juliet. Not his Jules.

Whatever line they were standing at, whatever uncertain waters they were swimming in with their relationship, it didn’t matter anymore. 

He loved her. 

He always had. 

It took him several years, a relationship with Abigail, that for sure he enjoyed and still cared for her, but from day one was tainted with Juliet’s presence. No matter how much he tried, the Junior Detective was the one occupying his heart, the one he would give his life for without blinking an eye. 

She was everything. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER? WHERE IS SHE?”

Shawn’s creative mind started to come up with a hundred scenarios, most of them involving him finding her body dumped in a ditch. 

And he never had the chance to tell her how he really felt.

The shattering of glass on the outside momentarily caught his attention and the witty man returned to his spot by the window, binoculars in hand, searching the source of the sound. He checked each apartment, his friends still motionless positioned. 

No movement. 

He looked down and found a bottle of wine shattered on the ground. The red liquid running through the tiled floor. 

It was a scene from the movie. 

It was a distraction. 

Shawn jumped almost two feet as the sound of a squeaking kettle started at the fake kitchen, drawing his attention. Walking towards the stove, he found the boiling water and a small cup, as familiar to him as the scenes of Rear Window, set on the sink. He turned off the stove and grabbed the china in his hands, inspecting it closer. 

Immediately, he realized it was the same one sitting at Juliet’s desk back at the police station. 

How on earth this monster was able to have it? 

How close has he been from them after all? Was he there all those days, watching and tracing Shawn’s every step without him noticing?

His father was right, Shawn had been sloppy for the past months. Declan was proof of that, and so his kidnapping, the life of his loved ones on the line too. 

It was his fault, he knew that, and he wouldn’t run away from it. 

The awful truth was that he could die out there and he would be gone under a lie. 

A lie he would never be able to refute to Juliet. 

Shaking his head, Shawn tried to vanish with that thought from his mind. He had to focus. 

Under the cup was another note, remaining a mystery of how it got there without Shawn noticing. He picked it and moved to the room, positioning it under the light so he could read it. 

> **A cup of coffee is always a good call when waiting for a meal**
> 
> **But wait no more, the dinner is about to be served.**
> 
> **Enjoy it as I enjoy your presence.**
> 
> **Be sure to eat well, as the adventures of this night will be carried through it.**

He heard the lock on the door click, the gear shifting until it was open. 

The sight in front of him ended with the air on his lungs, angry tears threatening to spill out. His nails dragging so deeply on his hand that Shawn was certain it would leave a mark.

Standing there, in a black and white dress, blond hair up in a bun, red-painted lips, holding a cloche in her hands, was Juliet. 

She was carrying the same emotionless smile his friends were, but her eyes couldn’t lie. 

Those deep blue oceans, filled with a mix of fear and relief he was certain his own carried. 

At least she was alive, that was what mattered right now. 

He started to move towards her but she signed him to stay where he was, pushing him immediately. Following her with his eyes, Shawn watched Jules settle the cloche in the small table near the wheelchair and open it, revealing a two-course meal, chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli perfectly cooked. Two candles and a match. 

She displayed the dish above the table and lit up the candles in silence, the only sound there coming from the wind outside and the ruffle of her puffy skirt, swinging around her while she moved around the small space. 

Once finished, she signed him to sit down in front of her and handed him a plate along with a fork and a knife.

Shawn stared at her, trying to gain any information, trying to understand what was happening. He opened his mouth to ask her what was going on but she shushed him, one finger at her lips, asking him to remain silent. 

He knew her, more than that, he knew how much damage Juliet could cause, how powerful and strong she was. That monster must have had a very good reason to make her follow his instructions and Shawn didn’t want to even begin to wonder how on earth she was being threatened for her to cave to a kidnaper’s orders. 

She started eating, a small piece going down with difficulty as the fear was forming an enormous knot on her throat. Shawn mimicked her, he too struggling with his food. 

At each different movement she made, Shawn paid attention, looking for signs of injuries, pain, blood. Apparently, she was physically intact, but her face was unreadable. Once in a while, he would peek through the window to check the other apartments.

Still no movement, no change.

They finished the meal and he watched her get up and grab the plates, heading to the kitchen. The dress she was in fitted her perfectly, and despite everything that was happening and the situation they found themselves in, Shawn couldn't help but admire her pure beauty, the calmness of her movements despite her chaotic heart, her braveness, and strength. 

She was perfect.

He closed his eyes, forcing his memory to travel back three weeks before. 

Her lips on his, that stolen kiss in the middle of Declan’s living room. The surprise. The confusion. Five years of that uncertain dance between them ended with the most amazing kiss Shawn has ever had. 

But although he loved each second of it, he felt guilt. 

Despite everything he ever felt for Juliet, she was with Declan and what they did was wrong. 

Shawn could go wrong in a lot of things and bend the rules more than once to fit his purposes but he wasn’t a cheater. Even though he nurtured a very unhealthy jealousy of the guy, Shawn respected him, and wouldn’t step upon another’s man relationship, it doesn’t matter how much he loved Jules.

She might have noticed that, because she broke the kiss, tears in her eyes as she realized the same thing Shawn had. She loved him, always had, and now was seeing herself in a dead-end position. 

She would have to break Declan’s heart. 

Jules watched Shawn walk away that afternoon, the pain in his eyes as intense as it was on hers. 

They spoke briefly after that and then, the murders started to happen, obligating Juliet to cancel her trip, as Shawn discovered later, and both decided to shove that conversation in the back of their minds until they had the time and peace to discuss it. 

Shawn had been good at juggling with the elephant in the room but, as the weeks passed, the struggle was harder, and the uncertainty between them so real and solid he could grab it. 

Now, the fear both had for each other’s lives was overcoming any awkwardness or unsolved matter between them, and all he cared was for her safety, for the assurance that she would make out alive of that mess Shawn blamed himself for. 

He wanted to run after her, put her petite body inside his arms, and protect her at all costs, even knowing how capable she was of defending herself. It didn’t matter, he would do anything, anything, to protect her. 

Juliet returned from the kitchen, one hand in her pocket searching for something Shawn suspected was another note. A few seconds later she handed him the folded paper with typewriter printed letters.

> **The dinner is over and I hope the food was at your taste.**
> 
> **I am sure your company through the meal was very pleasant.**
> 
> **It is always a delight to dine with the one you love the most. Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever and your lovely lady will have to go.**
> 
> **In the meanwhile, I have a short clue for you to solve.**
> 
> **“From south to north the wind blows, the sound travels above. The black key explodes, in a great spectacle it goes.”**

Shawn stared at it, clueless on what to do. His eyes looked up to meet Juliet’s as he tried to ask for any hints on the meaning of that letter. She shrugged, her eyes spooked at the information she picked from the upside-down note on his hands. 

He opened his mouth to speak and once again she signed him to remain quiet. Turning, she headed towards the door, ready to leave. Shawn followed her, his heart screaming, the fear freezing each drop of blood in his veins. 

With a final glance, Juliet closed the door behind her, leaving him in the silence of the apartment once again. 

“I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU ARE, IF YOU TOUCH HER I’LL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU!”

Trapped in that place he returned to the window, searching for Jules, expecting to find her walking downstairs, but not finding her. Wherever Sixty was keeping her, it wasn’t in any of the opposite buildings. 

With the binoculars, Shawn inspected the other rooms. They remained the same, but when he checked Lassiter’s window he saw it.

A small flashing red dot, shining through the glass in his direction. 

Shawn grabbed the last note.

> **“From south to north the wind blows, the sound travels above. The black key explodes, in a great spectacle it goes.”**

South to north… Sound... The piano!

That was it! 

Black key…

Shawn watched the small dot blink from under the instrument, Lassiter glued on the piano stool, his foot in one of the pedals, his hands now resting at the keyboard. 

Explodes…

With a click, all was put together. 

“Hey! HEY! I have your clue! It’s a bomb! There’s a bomb on the piano! Done! Now, let him go!”

Shawn slammed the window, trying to gain his captor’s attention from wherever he was. He saw the Head Detective’s fingers move, not understanding what was motivating him to do so, but surely he was about to play.

Shawn wanted to cover his eyes, but he wouldn’t be a coward. 

Even though he and Lassiter were like cat and dog, at the end of the day they were friends, partners in the law, saving lives side by side regardless of how different their methods might be. 

The fake psychic lowered his head for a few seconds only to find out, once his eyes returned to the front window that the tall Detective was gone, and there was no sound or signs of an explosion. With relief, Shawn loosened the air from his lungs he didn’t realize he was holding. 

He sat in the wheelchair, breathing deep, trying to control his emotions and calm his heartbeat. 

At that angle, he spotted an envelope hanging from one of the curtains. 

The way those notes and letters were being delivered, Shawn didn’t have a clue. Whatever theory he predicted, the strategy changed and the pattern was gone. He stood up and picked the cream thing and opened it, ready to defeat whatever came next.

> **I must say I am impressed by you, Mr. Spencer.**
> 
> **Your talent is, indeed, quite astonishing.**
> 
> **Well, I’m marveled at how well this evening is going so far and thrilled to see what comes next.**
> 
> **But first, I want proof of the bravery I’ve always heard you possess.**
> 
> **Don’t forget that there is nothing nicer than a warm room after a cold night.**

It was enough time for him to finish reading the note before the fire began on the other side of his window. 

Shawn didn’t have to look to know.

Gus.

Running to the door, he was prepared to knock it down, now that his body was less sored and the poison almost out of his system. To his surprise, the door was unlocked and his physical interference wasn’t necessary.

With only one way to go, Shawn rushed down the stairs in front of him, two steps at a time, practically flowing. He ran out, making his way to Gus’ apartment, the flames consuming the purple curtains at the window. 

Shawn took off his jacket, putting it in front of his mouth, and, with a kick, slammed the burned door down. 

“GUS? GUS! CAN YOU HEAR ME? GUS!”

He found a fire extinguisher attached to the entrance wall and used it to put out the fire. To his surprise, within seconds the burning room was out of flames, now covered in ashes and smoke. Shawn walked inside the place, searching for his best friend.

The room was empty. 

He stepped out, confusion winning over his mind.

He looked at the other windows, searching for his father and Chief Vick, only to find the apartments empty too. 

A note was waiting for him at the doormat.

> **Congratulations Mr. Spencer.**
> 
> **You are, with no doubt, a very brave man.**
> 
> **But, just like me, I assume, you get bored easily.**
> 
> **Our superior minds cannot handle ordinary for long.**
> 
> **So please, care to join me on our next adventure.**
> 
> **In the green car, you will find the keys and a destination.**
> 
> **Please don’t be late or room number 01 will be occupied.**

Shawn smashed the paper, angrily throwing it away, frustration overcoming his heart. This psycho was playing with his mind, pulling his strings like he was a puppet and the worst was that he couldn't just end it. If he wanted to win that game he would have to keep playing.

Usually he would have made many jokes, having quoted at least 15 different movies by now, trying to use his clever humor and often sarcasm to clear his way out of that, but now, as he was the one being joked, the target in some other person's sick game, Shawn wasn’t laughing. 

There were too many precious lives hanging at the edge for him to mess up.

Marching away from the building, Shawn headed to the car parked outside of that assembled scenario, each footstep increasing his worry. 

The only reward was the possibility of Gus and Lassiter’s safety being acquired. 

But he knew that, whatever game this killer was trying to play, it wasn’t even close to ending.

  
  



	2. Psycho

With a road map in his hand, one eye at it and the other on the way, Shawn drove heading West at what once before was a main road, just outside Santa Barbara. The boardwalk started to disappear as he drove deeper into the continent, leading to a hidden path between the woods. 

The scent of pine and fresh dirt invaded the car that had a small crack open, allowing the chilly wind of the night to invade it. The old oak trees had their branches intertwined, closing themselves in a tunnel of leaves, making the path more mysterious than should be. 

Constantly, Shawn would look at his rearview mirror, checking for any other vehicles on the road but finding it alarmingly empty. He didn’t understand how Sixty made that possible. Although that part of Santa Barbara’s outskirts was abandoned in almost its entirety, the road gives access to the US- 101. 

He checked the map again, one more turn to the left, giving him access to a highway where he would have to drive 15 more miles until his final destination. 

Through the window, Shawn could see the moon, that white full round ball following him like a loyal dog. The silver glow, so similar to the one covering his previous room, was now splashing shadows of the leaves on his panel, painting the cream interior of the car with negative spaces of the images outside. 

His mind traveled between that moment and all the last events. 

Shawn wasn’t sure what time it was, he guessed around 3 A.M. by the position of the moon, but he never paid enough attention to his father’s or Gus’ astronomic explanations, playing “Back to the Future" in his head whenever the teachings started. Now he regretted it deeply. Maybe if he had paid attention he wouldn’t be so lost in space and time. He was sure his cellphone was still dropped on his apartment’s floor, the screen probably cracked, leaving him with no means of communication. 

But as he realized, if he tried to contact anyone it could lead to a very unpleasant disclosure. The last thing Shawn wanted was to make a call that would kill any of his friends. 

The adrenaline running through his veins added to the fear and worry in his heart were making him full alert, the smallest change in the wind was noticed, and at each second Shawn rewinded the previous weeks, searching for clues, anything that would lead him to the identity of Sixty. 

_ How many hats are in the room Shawn? _

_ Dad! Not again!  _

_ How many Shawn?  _

Now it didn’t matter. He knew the hats but had no face to attach them on. 

Moving in his seat, Shawn found a more comfortable position, if that was possible due to his tensed body. If he made out alive from that madness he was sure Gus would have to prescribe him high doses of muscle relaxant.

Gus.

The image of the fire climbing through those fake walls crossed his eyes, the fear, the absence of an answer. 

Gus was his best friend, the only one who was there in all his adventures, the one who boarded in all his most idiotic and dangerous ideas such as jumping out of his roof to see how long it took for them to hit the floor (three weeks in a cast for both of them), the one who was the only other member at the boy scout troop spearheaded by his father. Gus was the one who sneaked a box of Chocodiles into his best friend’s room in the middle of the night and ate them with him when Shawn found out his parents were getting divorced. 

Gus was the only one who understood why Shawn became the man he was and how hard his childhood was. Growing up under the strict authority of Mr. Spencer and all the expectations he put on his kid could change a boy forever. All the discussions, all the fights, Gus was there. 

He was the last person Shawn saw before he ran away from Santa Barbara and the first one he called when he came back. 

Shawn breathed deep, passing one hand through his hair. 

He couldn’t lose Gus. 

His mind shifted then to the image of that black piano, the tall lanky figure of Lassiter, sitting so immobilized at the stool, made Shawn shudder. 

Sure they both fought, Lassie always going by the book while Shawn would make the possible and impossible to turn the odds in his favor, even creating new rules if necessary, but in the end, he knew he had earned the Head Detective’s respect. 

After all these years Lassiter had become more than a coworker. He was a friend. Someone Shawn invited to his birthday parties and family gatherings, even him refusing to attend. The one Shawn messed the most with because it was his crooked way to show how much he cared. 

Although Shawn wasn’t sure about their safety, he decided to accept that they had escaped, that they were okay, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to function, and focus on saving the rest of his team. 

The headlights illuminated poorly a construction a few feet away. 

That was it, he was arriving at the next part of that sadic charade. 

Shawn parked and turned off the engineer, listening to the car go silent and everything around him turn dark. He dropped out, closing the door behind him with a slam, maintaining his body near to the car, just in case something he wasn’t prepared for appeared. 

Startled, he jumped when a big sign was brought to life, pink and blue lights glowing against the sky, one letter blinking as the energy in it was ending, giving the thing a cheap appearance. But what scared him the most was what the neon letters spelled:

**Bates Motel.**

Psycho.

The front porch lit up, dragging his attention at it. With careful steps, Shawn approached the wood construction, the old looking boards ggritting under his weight, emitting a pitchy sound into the silent night. At the reception's door another note, just like the previous ones, was waiting for him. 

Shawn grabbed it, stepping back.

He examined the whole scenario, a perfect replica of the movie’s set. All cabins numbered, the foggy window of the reception. Shawn even bet that inside there he would find Norman’s creepy stuffed birds. Well, he was hoping for the birds and not something else. 

At the back, he could see Mrs. Bates' old house. The oddly black place, with a similar to the cabins’ wood porch and the front door closed. The curtains down, covering any possibility of peeking inside. 

With a trembling hand, as Shawn couldn’t calm his racing heart and anxious body, he opened the folded paper, finding a new clue to pursue. 

> **Mr. Spencer**
> 
> **I see you made fine down here.**
> 
> **I hope the view was pleasant and that you came prepared for us to continue this lovely night’s plans.**
> 
> **I believe though, that all the driving made you very tired so please, help yourself with a key and a bed to rest.**

Shawn turned the knob to discover the reception door unlocked. Inside he found a register book opened and a key resting above it. Fast he grabbed the key, reading the tag attached to it informing room number 01 was designated for him.

What were the odds? 

He then picked the book in his hands leafing it, looking for names and numbers. On the last page, he found two names written in fine calligraphy and black ink.

**Henry “Sam” Spencer**

**Karen “Lila” Vick**

They were there. Hidden somewhere inside that place. 

Shawn closed his eyes, trying to remember all the scenes from the motion picture, all characters, places, movements, nuances. It had been a few years since the last time he watched Hitchcock’s masterpiece, still, thanks to his abilities, it was like he was watching the movie at that very moment. 

Room 12! 

In the movie, Sam Loomis and Lila Crane pretend to be married in order to find out what happened to Marion. Norman gives them the key to room 12. 

For a split second Shawn ignored the fact that Juliet’s name wasn’t written there and wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not but, at the present moment, he couldn’t have the luxury to worry about it. He had to follow the lead because if he allowed his mind to focus on Jules, even for a second, he was at the risk to never end that sick game. 

Ignoring the instructions inside the note Shawn sprinted out, heading towards the room his father and the Chief could be trapped inside. The door was unlocked and he entered, switching the light to have a clear vision. He found two empty chairs positioned side by side, loosened ropes dropped on the floor, a note above one of the seats. 

> **Sneaky boy.**
> 
> **Your clever mind could only bring you here.**
> 
> **Unfortunately, I don’t appreciate my guests breaking my rules.**
> 
> **Besides, it would be so easy don’t you think? I would be underestimating your abilities.**
> 
> **Again, go to your room and take a rest. Don’t make me do it, you are not going to like it.**

An icy shiver went down his spine and Shawn dropped his head on his hands. 

At each move he took more stupid he felt. 

He couldn’t find anything or beat this monster at his traps. If Lassie and Gus had managed to escape by now, they were back at the police station, either being manipulated just like he was or fighting their butts out, trying to save the remaining prisoners before all that turned into a bloody mess. 

The only conclusion Shawn could ddrawwas that, whatever murder happening that night, it would be Hitchcock’s style and that was something he could work with.

He was on the set of Psycho, so the options were either the death at the shower or the ladder stab, the car would only be used to dispose of the body.

The car.

Shawn left the room to check the green vehicle, relieved to see it still parked at the same spot. 

Feeling his hands tied, he walked towards cabin 01, finding it unlocked and furnished the same way it was in the movie. Checking the bathroom first, Shawn didn’t find any traces of blood or any cleaning supplies that could have disappeared with it. 

Defeated he returned to the bedroom, letting his body sink above the bed. His hair, always perfectly fixed, was now ruined due to the significant times he ran his hands through it, leaving it messed and a little greasy. 

He just wanted that to end, wanted to regain power over the situation, to have the pleasure of seeing that monster behind bars, or worse. Shawn was never the “sick for blood” type. Unlike Lassie, he didn't feel the need to put a bullet at the criminals’ heads. Arresting them was good enough. But now, after all this madness, Shawn was finding himself in a place where watching that idiot murder having a bullet in his head, or even better, himself making sure to be the one putting it there, wasn’t that unpleasant anymore.

And that thought scared him.

Because, even though he always knew the drill when it came to being a cop, knowing how to shoot, having even fired a gun a couple of times, Shawn wasn’t a killer. One of the reasons why he never became a cop, besides giving the pleasure of his father being right about him, was the fact that one way or another he would come to a situation, a day, where he would have to kill someone, either to protect his life or someone else's. He knew what that action could do with a man.

Shawn remembered seeing his father arrive at home after one of these days. It wasn’t often, fortunately, but it happened, and the expression in the older man’s face was something he would never forget. Defeat, regret, pain, were a few adjectives to describe the surface of what the deep inside might be holding. 

He remembered seeing that pain in Juliet’s eyes the first time she fired a deadly shot on a perp.

She did it to protect Shawn. 

For a moment he wished she had let him die so he would never have to see that look on her face. 

But now, as the life of people he cared for were on the line, his boundaries were changing and the limits where he was willing to go stretching at each new image his mind would conjure of any of his friends’ dead bodies.

Unwillingly, he laid down on the bed and waited. Turning to his side, he kept a good glance at the window, checking any movements outside, his eyes glued at the parked car. 

The absence of a clock anywhere near made Shawn uninformed about the hours or how much time had passed since he first entered the cabin. To him felt like days but he guessed it couldn't be more than half an hour. His mind would drift between the files, the pictures of the victims, the places where the police found them.

In all of the cases everything was quite mysterious but, this time, not so much. Shawn knew where he was, even though he couldn’t track the time. He wasn’t tied up anymore but couldn’t leave. He didn’t know who Sixty was but knew the people’s lives he was playing with.

This time it wasn’t a random assassination. 

This time, it was personal. 

This guy wanted to taunt him, to poke deep until all his energy and strength were drained out. He was testing Shawn’s limits and capabilities. 

Suddenly, a shadow crossed his window and Shawn jumped out of the bed, grabbing the lamp resting on the nightstand beside him to use in need of a weapon. He watched the doorknob turn and raised his arm, ready to beat up anyone crossing it. 

To his shock and relief, it was the person he feared for the most in all that mess. 

Juliet was standing there, the same black and white dress, the same frightened eyes.

Where that man could possibly be keeping her? 

What was her role in all that mess anyway? 

He stepped closer, examining her from head to toe, looking for any signs of injuries, lacerations, cuts or anything else. 

A quick flashback crossed his eyes and Shawn traveled back a few years, just when he enrolled in the idea of becoming a “bounty hunter”. Juliet had been hit, leaving a superficial but extent cut on her forehead. It was the first thing he noticed when he saw her and the thing he most worried about until the injury was completely healed. After that day, whenever he saw her, Shawn discreetly examined the Detective, just to make sure she wasn’t masking a possible serious injury she rated as “no big deal”. 

_ “Shawn? What are you doing in the lady’s room?” _

_ “I saw you coming here in a hurry.” _

_ “Yeah, but that doesn’t answer my question or justify you being here.” - her arms crossed over her chest and the suspicious look on her face added more weight to her words. _

_ “You’re bleeding.” - he shyly pointed one of his fingers at her head while the other hand was shoved in his pocket. _

_ “Oh, this? Just a small cut on the forehead Shawn, I’m fine. You don’t need to come to babysit me.” _

_ “If you were fine you wouldn’t have almost passed out ten minutes ago and you wouldn’t be bleeding now.” - his eyes, so filled with worry and seriousness Juliet almost didn't recognize him. _

_ “I…” _

_ “At least let me help you with the bandage, okay?” _

_ “Shawn…” _

_ “Please?” - his insistent words combined with his preoccupied voice wined her over and Jules handed him the cotton ball and the medicine she had settled in the sink. _

_ Shawn approached her, his face inches away from her, his hands touched the wounded spot in her forehead with such delicacy and ability it was like he had done that a hundred times. _

_ “How do you know how to do this?” _

_ “My father taught me in case I didn't have any medical assistance while “in the field” and I did his bandages for years when he wanted to hide them from my mom.” _

_ “Oh… that’s sweet, I guess.” _

_ “It's a way to put it.” - He grinned at her, his lips in a soft curve and his eyes filled with pure care Juliet couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach, and the feeling was only boosted by his heat involving her, his cologne impregnating her nose.  _

_ “All done.” - he had set a new bandage over the now cleaned and dried cut, doing a better job than she ever could. His thumb pressed the white piece one more time, gentle, to make sure it was secured and Shawn took the opportunity to smooth the lines on Juliet’s forehead, feeling her relax instantly while her cheeks gained a new pinkish color.  _

_ They stared at each other for a second or two, half-lost in their own trance before Juliet broke the gaze.  _

_ “Thank you, Shawn. You didn’t have to.” _

_ “But I wanted Jules. It’s the only way I know.” _

_ “Know what?” _

_ “That you’re safe.” _

_ Her dumbfounded face probably gave away the surprise that the last statement caused her and at that moment she saw the real Shawn beneath all the jokes and childish reckless acts. When he trusted enough this sweet side would show up and to her, it was the first time she actually understood how deep her heart was hooked at his.  _

_ She realized how much he paid attention and how much he cared. _

Shawn always knew when she was trying to mask pain, and after a few unsuccessful confrontations, he discovered that the strategy was to wait until her act breaks and offer help, either to change a bandage, to clean a wound, or simply help her carry the weight of multiple file boxes when her body was all beaten up. 

To his relief, she appeared physically fine, no evident marks. Maybe his words back at the room intimidated their captor or that sick man was planning something worse than the psychic could imagine. He decided not to go further on that thought. 

Her lips quivered a bit, and a single tear escaped from her eyes, ripping Shawn’s heart in two. Her gaze, usually so cheerful, was now completely changed. He stepped even closer to her, his thumb already moving to dry off the tear on her cheek when she stopped him with her hand. 

Confused but obedient, he stayed at his spot, one foot away from her. She raised her arm, handing him another folded paper. Her body was stiff and mechanical as if each wrong move could cause real damage. 

Shawn picked the paper, unfolding it right away. With a final glance at her blue eyes, just to make sure she wouldn’t vanish once he turned his attention, he read the note.

> **Break time has come to an end.**
> 
> **Now it is time for some fun.**
> 
> **I believe the cabin can be a very lonely place, and I, personally, find the solitude often gloomy.**
> 
> **Care to join me in the main house, perhaps we can have some tea.**
> 
> **Oh, before I forget, no talking or your pretty lady becomes fireworks.**

Shawn didn’t even finish the letter before his worried look returned to Juliet. There, blinking under the first layer of her skirt, was a tiny red dot, very similar to the one he saw back at Lassiter’s piano. 

His stomach dropped, the knot in his throat tightening at each breath. 

Not Jules. 

His eyes glistened, fresh tears of pure despair and angry piling up, coloring his iris, always blue when around Juliet, as a sign of total contentment and peace, now a dark green as his stress level reached its limit.

Signaling him to follow her, Jules made her way out of the cabin, leading their way to the black house at the back. From behind her Shawn couldn’t see the blinking red dot but could hear the low beep, muffled by his and her steps. 

They stopped by the entrance, Juliet turning to face him. The automatic yellow light turned on and he could see all her delicate features covered in that mask of fear. Despite all the tension, the panic, deep down the unspoken matter between them found a way to resurface at that very inappropriate moment. 

If it was from Shawn, he would kiss her right there, would make sure she would never leave his side, ever again. Would embrace her so tight that not even Lassiter would be able to split them apart. But, at the same time, it was hard to picture all those things and not feel guilty. 

She hadn’t chosen him. 

Declan was her boyfriend, probably worrying sick to find out where she was, to find out what was happening. He could imagine the filthy rich man spending all his resources to find his girl. Suddenly his talk with Gus from nights ago, when Nadia was captured, crossed his mind. 

_ “... You’ve been obsessed with this woman this whole time, she makes the ultimate move on you, and you shut her down? What’s wrong with you? That makes no sense. Are you crazy?” _

_ “I know, it doesn't make any sense. Maybe I am crazy. All I can tell you is that just now, at that moment, all I could think about was Jules. I just can’t wrap myself around the fact that she’s dating Declan. It’s actually...It’s actually killing me.” _

_ “Shawn, that is not fair.” _

_ “I know. I know it’s not fair. And you’re right. If she likes this guy who am I to stand in the way?” _

_ “Exactly.” _

_ “You think I don’t wanna her to be happy? I want her to be happy. But, serious Shawn moment here. I wanna to be happy too. And for some reason, I can’t imagine that happening without Juliet.” _

He wanted Jules to be happy, he really did. That’s why he never asked her to stay. If she loved Declan so let it be. He would rather move on knowing that she was happy than dragging her to his mess and preventing her from having the life she deserves, even if that meant he would have to watch the love of his life walk away. 

Shawn knew he didn’t deserve her. He had begun their uncertain relationship based on lies, and Declan was fast enough to realize (even if it was Shawn who pointed that out to him) that he couldn't start anything with Juliet if he was lying to her. 

Shawn shook his head, trying to get the memory out of there. He had to focus, had to protect Jules the best he could.

He took a deep breath, prepared to face whatever it took to end up with all that. 

A small smile crept its way to Shawn’s lips, his reassurance that no matter what, he would fight, he would save her. To his surprise, she smiled shyly back at him. He held the urge to reach for her hand and with a nod signed her he was ready. 

Juliet then took a deep breath and lifted one finger to ring the doorbell. Immediately the floor beneath her opened and she was dragged down. 

Shawn had to give his best not to cry out her name. He bent down, inspecting the hole, discovering it was a tunnel leading to an unknown location. Before he could go any further the door from the hatch closed and he was left alone once more. 

Some tears escaped from his eyes, his blood pressure probably higher than any desirable level. He dried his face with the sleeve of his white shirt and traveled his attention back at the porch. 

He couldn’t leave now, not when he knew that other lives were in his hands too. 

The door unlocked and he pushed it, stepping further into the house. The entrance was poorly illuminated, shadowing some forms against the wall. Shawn could identify some vases hanging upon carved pillars and the awful smell of mothballs. He turned at the sound of the front door closing behind him. 

His memory recalled the scenes from the movie once again. If he was correct Mrs. Bates stabs the private investigator by the stairs. 

Without thinking twice Shawn ran inside, searching for the stairs which he found located only a couple of feet ahead. There, in the handlebar was another note glued. The room was darker than the entrance and he had to move closer to a lighted candle attached to the wall to be able to read it. 

> **Mr. Spencer,**
> 
> **You finally made home. I believe your lady friend could be quite distracting, that is why I did you the favor of keeping her quiet so you wouldn’t waste time.**
> 
> **Now that you are here, the actual fun can begin.**
> 
> **At the top of the stairs, both actors are getting ready for the shooting**. 

Looking up he saw Chief Vick dressed in an old floral nightgown, a knife in her hands. More to the left, with his back half facing the stairs, was his father, tied up in a chair, gag in his mouth. The scene at first didn’t make sense to him until he climbed a few steps into their direction.

A firing mechanism was positioned some feet behind Karen and had a wire connected to the knife in her hands. The longer she held the knife near herself, the closer the gun would get to her body until it fired, putting a bullet in her head. If she stabbed Mr. Spencer the gun would stop moving and the man would be sent down the stairs exactly like Arbogast. 

It was a dead end. 

Either Chief Vick killed his father or the gun would kill her.

Shawn knew, without a doubt, that she would hold the knife up as long as it took. She wouldn’t let Henry die, not under her watch. 

Since all that started, Karen felt powerless. She was worried not only about the safety of her city but also the safety of her own, the brilliant detectives and cops under her supervision and guidance, putting their lives on the line to find this man. 

She couldn’t protect the previous victims but, if she could do anything now, for sure she would do it. 

On the other hand, Shawn knew that inside his father’s mind he already had a plan to save Karen’s life, regardless if meant losing his own. 

Shawn carefully stepped closer, trying to come up with any solutions. He wouldn’t let anyone die, not that night. 

He looked into his father’s eyes and the only thing he could remember was the day he watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off for the first time. He was only 10 years old and, against his father’s will, watched the movie which would become his life model for the years to come. Ferris’ quote “ Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” became his motto and Shawn lost count of how many times he attempted at pulling off the same lie Buller did to skip school.

Sure his father was never easy on him but Shawn for sure wasn’t better.

Despite all the insane cop training, fights, and non discussed issues between his dad and him, Shawn loved the old man and knew he was loved back. All the gibberish and lies his father put up with all those years, and the fact that he never gave up on him, not even when Shawn ran away, was proof of that.

Shawn kept staring at his father, his expression quizzical on how to solve that trap. He felt like a 10 years old all over again, asking his father answers for questions he couldn’t understand. 

Henry looked back at him and with a nod and a quick movement showed exactly what his son had to do. When the realization came, Shawn couldn’t help the indignation. 

He had to be kidding him. 

He asked him to close his eyes. 

_ Come on Shawn, close your eyes. _

_ Dad!  _

_ Close. Now, how many hats are in the room? _

Shawn did as he was told, this time not looking for hats, but for failures in the system. His mind jumped from one detail to another until he found the winning prize. If he pulled the wire connecting the gun and the knife, Chief Vick would fall to her side, disarming the gun. And even if it fired, the time the bullet takes to travel to its target would be enough for Henry to throw his body weight to his left, tripping the chair over, avoiding the shot. 

With a final nod from his father and a glance at the deer frightened eyes of Karen, Shawn did it, he pulled the wire. 

It all happened in a second. He heard the gunshot and had time to see his father duck. The pullback from the gun added to the force he put on pulling the wire made Shawn trip over the step, leading him to a back fall down the stairs. 

His whole body screamed from the impact and took him a good couple of seconds to regain his strength to put himself on his feet. 

Fast he climbed up the stairs again to check his father and the Chief. To his surprise, they were gone, just like Gus and Lassiter were before. He found the knife and the ropes holding his father to the chair left behind. Fortunately, he didn't spot any traces of blood.

However, they vanished and he hoped they had escaped. 

Running his hand over his hair, Shawn looked around, trying to find the next note. There, attached to the disassembled gun was the cream piece of paper.

> **A modern hero we can say.**
> 
> **Congratulations Mr. Spencer, I see you are a fair player.**
> 
> **Gladly our game isn’t over.**
> 
> **I must confess I enjoy our interactions more and more.**
> 
> **Outside your vehicle awaits.**
> 
> **Let’s go on another adventure.**

Shawn smashed the paper, a scream suppressed in his lungs.

Now the only one in that game was Juliet.

His Jules. 

He rushed down and went straight outside, heading to the car. The sky once so dark now was beginning to show the first signs of the morning. The pale blue wining over the silky black, the stars disappearing giving space for the twilight sun. He couldn't tell how many hours he was trapped in that madness but he was ready to put an end to it.

Opening the driver’s door he was surprised by someone sitting at the passenger’s seat. Juliet had her seat belt already fastened, her previous black and white dress traded for a gray skirt suit, very similar to the ones she uses at the station, her head facing the front window. On her lap was resting another piece of cream paper. 

Shawn entered the car, locking the door and carefully reaching for the note, checking Jules for any signs of injuries, like he had done previously, before opening the note.

> **Another road trip, how exciting.**
> 
> **This time the travel will be longer so I believed you would enjoy the company.**
> 
> **I personally selected a playlist to fulfill the environment.**
> 
> **Oh, don’t forget, not a peep.**

Immediately he looked at Juliet, trying to locate the bomb once trapped in her body. She moved her head in denial and pointed to the panel in front of them. The bomb was in the car.

He breathed relieved. At least it wasn’t in her. 

Turning his head to her, Shawn realized her body was slightly relaxed as the bomb was no longer in her. It was wrong to say that she was okay, but now he knew he could touch Jules without exploding her in the process. 

So he did.

Catching her by surprise, Shawn intertwined his finger with hers, squeezing her hand gently, feeling she reciprocate the movement with more strength. Juliet was scared, terrified. The reassurance of his hand in hers finally made her relax enough to allow a bit of the panic to escape.

Silent sobs shook her body and shed tears on her cheeks. 

She had been trapped in tunnels and dark rooms all night, alone, scared, set up, threatened, blindfolded, gagged, bombed. It was all too much. 

Her quiet pain killed Shawn piece by piece. He let go of her hand quickly, and with his thumb dried the tears on her cheeks, caressing briefly the soft skin. He then turned the engineer on, pulling them out of the parking lot towards the road. The small map behind the note informed him he would drive through a straight line from almost an hour and a half until he arrived at his destination. 

Shawn didn’t know what was coming next, but now that he had Juliet by his side he wouldn’t let her go of him. It was time to end it. He hoped that his friends, even more, his family were okay and on their way to find them. 

Clutching the steering wheel with one hand, Shawn used the other to grab Juliet’s hand again, bringing it to his lips leaving a soft kiss there. The action caused a tiny smile and calmed her sobs. 

She was there, and although he couldn’t control their situation Shawn could make sure she was safe.

Juliet was the most precious person in his life. He couldn't prevent her kidnapping but now there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect her life. 

For her, he was ready to fight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this new chap! Please, feel free to comment, I'd love to know your thoughts :)


	3. Vertigo

**Vertigo** _ noum _ _ /ˈvɜːtɪɡəʊ/  _ **1.** the feeling of  dizziness and fear, and of losing your balance, that is caused in some people when they look down from a very high place.

Almost halfway through the ride, Juliet fell asleep. Perhaps it was Shawn at her side, his reassuring hand on hers that allowed that to happen. Sleeping in another person's presence is one of the most trusting acts. A vulnerability a person only shares when there’s confidence in the one by their side.

That warmed Shawn’s heart.

Being under so much stress until now, having Juliet by his side, her sweet scent, her petite figure resting peacefully, was calming and he could tell she was enjoying it too, as the wrinkles in her forehead, before so deep due to her nervousness, were now gone, leaving the area smooth and relaxed. 

Shawn knew that once she woke up she would be startled and probably all that situation would come back at once, but he would be there, even not being able to speak with her, his arms would be ready. 

He tried not to focus much on the bomb, trying not to calculate the place it was trapped or putting any puzzles together. For a split second, all he wanted was to pretend it was just him and Jules, traveling somewhere nice, enjoying each other as if they were just two kids in love. He wanted to pretend there wasn’t a bomb, a murder, a threat, a Declan, an awkwardness, fear, stress. 

No, for that fragment of time it was just him and Juliet, driving under the warm morning sun. 

The sky was brighter now, blue as if it didn’t know that under it was happening one of, not to say the worst, day of Shawn’s life. 

He again glanced at the woman at his side, more to assure himself she was still there and wasn’t just a mirage conjured by him. Her head was resting at the seat back, her grip at his hand now lighter and her breathing serene. 

The silence was less thick but not at all enjoyable. 

Picturing in his mind the last note for the hundredth time Shawn remembered their sick player had assembled a playlist. With nothing more to lose, he carefully took his hand out of the wheel, since it was a straight road and he could easily drive with his knees, and turned the radio on the lowest volume possible, as not to wake Juliet. 

With a smooth and velvet voice Louis Armstrong opened the playlist, flying from tone to tone, he would add magic and color to any ordinary song, his characteristic voice triggering many memories as Shawn recalled his childhood moments. His father was always a fan of the ’40s and so his house would constantly have Ella Fitzgerald playing in his living room late at night, lulling his parents in a romantic slow dance. 

His attention diverted from the music when Jules stirred in her seat. Fortunately, she didn’t wake, just changed her position to what Shawn presumed was a more comfortable one. The sun was illuminating part of her face, her golden locks, now loosened, cascading at the side, glowing under the light. 

That image of her, once more brought back another memory from a few months, before Abigail, before Declan, before everything, when the time was full and inexhaustible when they would freely flirt back and forth, having late dinners at the police station, gatherings to watch a movie at the Psych office, taking rides home together. Shawn remembered sitting in Juliet’s green beetle, her soft smile wider that particular evening. 

They had been dismissed earlier as their case took a big turn and Shawn was able to piece everything together sooner than expected. The reports were postponed since they were all drained out. Gus left to a date rescheduled a few times, leaving his best friend without a ride home. Juliet offered to drop him by the place she was only going to see inside when Shawn got shot months later.

The remaining sun rays from a gorgeous sunset painting the sky that day hit her face, flattering her features and giving her an orange halo, so angelical Shawn stopped breathing for a few seconds. On her radio music was playing at a low volume, making it hard to identify. But when she started humming along, a few lyrics spilled here and there, as if she knew the song but couldn’t remember all the words, Shawn recognized it.

_La Vie en Rose_ , in the voice of Édit Piaf, filling the car on that gorgeous afternoon and painting that fond memory with a touch of pink in Shawn’s mind. He was sure Jules didn’t realize his eyes on her, or the effect she caused on him. They made their ride in that comfortable mood until she parked in front of that old laundry place Shawn called his “apartment”. 

Before leaving he asked her how she knew that song. She told him briefly about her semester in Paris, the same one she had mentioned in one of the cases they worked together, and how this was the only song she could sing entirely in french. The pride in Juliet’s eyes was contagious and he felt like her conquest was his too.

He left with a goodbye and one of his favorite memories of her. 

Once in a while, you could hear him singing that familiar melody when he was alone or thought no one was listening to him. 

Tears filled his eyes, but Shawn shoved them right back down. Now wasn’t the time and, frankly, he was tired of crying. That act so rare to him, happening only a few times during his entire life, had occurred three times that night. It was time to stop whine and start facing the truth. 

Juliet’s life depended on him and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. 

She had a lot to live for.

Shawn wanted to watch her dance, hear her contagious laugh and see those ocean blue eyes staring at him with that clueless admiration and slight annoyance. He wanted to join her in long night conversations about the most insane things, to fight crime beside her, and occasionally steal her thunder when it was all solved. To make sure she was safe and sound at her home and that she would always have a shoulder to cry on, no matter if they were together or not. He wanted to listen to her sing La Vie en Rose once more.

From Dean Martin to June Christy, the playlist changed, bringing the driver’s attention to the road. The panic and fear finding their way back to his heart and mind, vanishing with his previous contemplation of life. 

Juliet woke up a few moments later. Rubbing her eyes, it was clear she forgot for a moment what was happening. She glanced at her hand, stiffening a bit when she realized her fingers were intertwined with Shawn’s but relaxing when he gently squeezed them. Looking at him, her quizzical expression slowly dissolved into worry and then her own share of panic as all the horrible night events came back as a concrete memory other than just unhappy fantasies from a nightmare she had just woke up from. 

She opened her mouth to say something but Shawn, dropping her hand, quickly signed her to remain silent, pointing at the paper, now smashed, tossed at the car’s floor. She straightened it out and read the typed letters, fast regaining information of what they were dealing with. 

With a slight nod, she signed she understood him and returned her vision back at the road in front of her. Her eyes, despite all the other emotions, expressed gratitude for the little time Shawn allowed her to sleep. She couldn't imagine how tired he was, up as long as she, under more stress than she could ever comprehend. 

Sure Juliet was as drained as him, after all the psychological torture that still wasn’t over. Not ever again she would watch any of Hitchcock’s movies, which was a bit of a bummer since it was one of her favorite activities with Shawn, however that could easily be substituted for another one.

But through all that night, through all the hell, one thing she was sure the entire time: Shawn was there, he was alive and he would get them out of there. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t trust her capabilities and strength. She knew how skilled and talented she was and how much power and damage her low kick was able to cause but there was something she could never do. 

She couldn't read minds. 

Although a tiny part of her heart still doubted Shawn’s skills, the majority of her believed he was actually gifted and he just kept proving himself over and over again during all those years. And even if he didn’t possess supernatural abilities, she trusted him enough to put her life in his hands, to believe he could fight for her when she wasn’t able to.

Juliet loved being a strong woman, independent, but her heart melted every single time she saw the smallest worry cross Shawn’s eyes whenever he saw a purple bruise on her arm, or a small cut gained in a foot pursuit after a perp. Sometimes she liked to play the role of the damsel in distress, just to see what reaction she could take from Shawn. A 100% of the time he would make an extra effort to make sure she was okay, accompanying her to her car, or stopping by her place before a guys’ night with Gus to check and see if she needed anything or even leaving small treats at her desk the day after. 

That was the Shawn no one knew (except Gus, maybe) that she got the chance and pleasure to know. The man who could be as sweet as he was childish and as mature as his constant immaturity. 

Shawn was a series of contradictions that somehow complemented themselves on a functional level, building that man of so many characteristics. 

As infuriating as he was, she just couldn’t stop loving him. 

That first moment, when he portrayed her with his silly pitchy voice tone, when he pouted like a child over his seat and freely told her about his skill in making a crawling snake, there, she was hooked by that shit-eating grin and those insanely captivating bluish-green eyes. 

Shawn Spencer had conquered her heart at “Excuse me, I think you’re in my seat” and have continued to do so ever since. 

She observed him driving, concentrated at the road, his mind probably anywhere else but in that car. At least a hundred plans had crossed his mind and she bet that by the time they arrived at their destination he would be prepared. 

So, despite all the fear, all the anger, and pain, she smiled because she knew that, with Shawn at her side, she would have enough strength to fight too. 

Juliet noticed Shawn’s body tense, even more, making her eyes turn to the road, understanding the reason why. There, not more than 100 feet from them, was a small beige church with black old windows and a bell tower. 

Shawn gritted his teeth, trying to suppress an angry scream she knew was killing him inside. She tensed too, putting together the pieces Shawn already had since he first saw her in that gray skirt suit but didn’t want to acknowledge. 

She was Judy Barton, or Madeleine Elster if you prefer. Kim Novak’s most famous role.

Vertigo.

They were in Vertigo. 

Despite not having Earnie’s bar at the assembled set, the church was a perfect replica, as all the other scenarios were. Shawn wondered how that man had the sources and time to do that but he honestly didn't give a care. 

Killing the engineer, Shawn parked in front of the small garden, circling the construction. Although his wish was to keep driving away as much as he could, he was smart enough to deduce that, one inch more than the planned and goodbye car, the bomb probably not leaving any reasonable trace for forensics to identify their bodies. 

Shawn got out of the car, waiting for Juliet to do the same. They walked a few meters away, still not sure if they could speak or not. Just knowing that she wasn’t boobytrapped reassured Shawn enough for him to put her in his arms.

To the heck the awkwardness, the boundaries, the invisible line delimiting their space. Shawn couldn't spend a minute more without her body enveloped in his embrace. Gladly she hugged him back but didn’t allow herself to break. She had to be strong. 

She was fine.

Loosening his grip around her Shawn ended their hug, looking at her eyes one more time before taking a deep breath and heading towards their next game, and hopefully (he would make sure of that) the last one. 

A few steps inside the garden and they faced the same cemetery from the movie. The stone graves with names beautifully engraved. It was a shame they all were the names of people Shawn and Juliet knew. 

**Buzz McNab**

**Abigail Lyatar**

**Declan Rand**

**Ewan O’Hara**

**Madeline Spencer**

**Karen Vick**

**Gurton Buster**

**Carlton Lassiter**

**Henry Spence**

At each name more Shawn tensed and hopped it was all a sick joke. He glanced over his shoulder as Juliet walked a few steps away, following the stones engraved with her family member’s names, horror increasing in her face at each one. 

They stopped, both facing each other but a few feet away when they read graves with their own names. Juliet covered her mouth, shock running all over her body. She looked up in Shawn’s direction, eyes widening more if that was possible.

Although her reaction threw the game, Sixty was fast enough. With a knife against Shawn’s throat, he immobilized the fake psychic. The sharp and cold blade just pressed enough that the slightest movement would kiss him goodbye. 

Against all instructions, Juliet screamed.

“SHAWN! LET HIM GO! NOW!”

From the back, Shawn couldn't get a picture of the man’s face, but his black-gloved hands and the coat covering his arms were enough for him to assemble a mental picture, running all the faces from the SBPD in his head, trying to match them to the body behind him. 

He was so sure, from day one, that this was an inside job, someone from the department invisible enough not to be noticed but close enough to learn everything about them, learn everything about Shawn. This was personal, it always had been and at each clue this murder left, he could see how deep cover this guy was in his life. 

“Well, well, Mr. Spencer. Finally a proper meeting. I have to admit I was anxiously looking forward to this moment, the grand finale.”

Shawn gasped, trying to speak, to scream, but the criminal pressed the knife harder against his throat, making speaking and even breathing, a hard job.

“No, no. Not time for a speech yet. You see, it took me a really long time to put this show all together, years of preparation until this big moment and I will not let you ruin it with a melodramatic funny speech I know so well you can give.” 

He could sense the disgusting smile in that unrecognized face, probably masked. Juliet, across from him, was frozen in her step, not a single strand of hair moving. 

“So, as I always imagined, this day arrived and I have no shame in bragging about how skilled I am in recreating all Hitchcock’s fascinating movies so far. As I know you guessed already, we have here beautiful Judy Barton which makes you Scottie. Sweet but mental Scottie. Well, you know how much of a perfectionist I am by now, and there was no way I would let this iconic scene be portrayed without all the right elements.”

Shawn’s breathing accelerated when he realized what was about to happen. With struggle, he tried to free himself from the man’s grip but was unsuccessful. Sixty’s hand was faster, piercing his neck, once more, with a needle. The oily liquid painfully traveled his veins and he lost his balance for a second or two. 

He could see Juliet fighting to run after him but not being able to move. Whatever was holding her back was powerful and out of his sight as the grave in front of her was blocking his view. 

Sixty finally let him go, the knife away from his neck. Shawn dropped on his knees, the injection starting to take effect. Whatever that guy had forced into his body was definitely something strong. He breathed hard, trying to regain his stability. 

By that time the murder was already near Juliet, his knife now against her throat. 

“TAKE YOUR HANDS OUT OF HER NOW! TAKE IT NOW OR I PROMISE I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU!”

“Shawn, Shawn, Shawn… but then you would ruin the grand finale, and I couldn’t let that happen. Well, I suppose you remember how this all ends.”

The masked face, as he had suspected, had only his eyes exposed in a tiny hole. Instantly they awakened Shawn’s memory and his mind once more started to match and replace features so he would find the exact combination to form a face. 

But as the man started to move, Shawn’s trance was broken and his attention was totally focused on Jules. Her panicked eyes and the fact that she had no move to disarm the man that wouldn't involve her death, made her hostage of his grip. 

“Come on Shawn, you don’t wanna miss the end.”

Fast he ran with Juliet under his hold towards the church. 

It was a matter of time. 

Shawn put himself on his feet, balancing his weight between his legs and the grave until he was sure he could run without tripping. Without thinking twice he headed to the same entrance he saw Jules disappear inside. He flew between the benches to the back, finding the wooden stairs. 

The bell tower. 

He started to climb up, two steps at a time, almost reaching the criminal when everything started spinning. His head turned, swirls in his eyes and everything was a big blur. 

Vertigo.

Whatever was in his system, was mimicking the effects of vertigo. 

Taking a deep breath Shawn concentrated on making the next flights without looking down but it was very hard as the narrow steps would obligate him to see where he was stepping. The sweat in his forehead started to drip at the sides of his face and each breath was harder to take. 

But the man had Jules. No way he wouldn’t make it.

Focusing on her, Shawn climbed his way to the top, finding the open passage to the bell and the small area. He found Juliet standing at the edge of the floor, one more step and she would fall to her death, just like Madeline did back in the movie. Sixty was behind her, his knife at her back. 

“HEY! HEY! LET HER GO! THIS IS BETWEEN YOU AND ME, ISN’T IT BERT?”

The man turned, his eyes widened and the sick smile on his face gone. Shawn could tell Juliet was shocked too, as the muscles in her back stiffened.

“Yes, Bert Hill, assistant of the Investigative Assistant Thomas Wilson or, as I like to call, the file guy.”

An angry laughter escaped from Bert’s mouth, freezing the blood on Shawn's veins. 

“Well, it took you long enough don’t you think?”

“What do you want Bert? What could you possibly gain with this, huh? Fame? Why me?”

“Oh Shawn, you see, I was always underestimated, my intelligence reduced to a pitty position, a useless job. My brilliant mind, so ready to be challenged, was despised by everyone in that office. I could have been great. I climbed my way up slowly, helping cases, brilliant anonymous tips until you came. At first a marvel opponent, someone to instigate my mind, to improve me.”

“I don’t see where’s the point of this.”

“SHUT UP!”

Shawn closed his mouth cursing himself for being so stupid. 

“With a simple act, you destroyed my chances, obligating me to up my game. But the more cases you solved, the more confident you got and I was forced to change my strategies. I realized, a little later, that your powers didn’t come from your exceptional skill but from the people around you. So I thought to myself, why not test that? Of course, I had to create a story that would catch your eye enough to join me in this amazing game.”

“SO YOU ARE TELLING ME ALL THIS IS A STUPID GAME?”

Anger was boiling from Shawn's chest, this man did all that just for the pleasure, just to have his mind challenged?

“HEY! Shut it! More than a game Mr. Spencer, I dedicated my time to study your behavior, your trace of thoughts, and what best way to analyze it all than in a thrilling situation? I couldn't thank you enough for all the precious moments we got to interact with because they allowed me to know exactly which string to pull to make this study more pleasant. Of course, going for your father, your best friend, were good calls, easy ones. Your boss, who could tell how much you cared, willing to sacrifice your father’s life for her, intriguing I must say.”

Shawn breathed heavily, at each word more exasperate he would get. His fists, perfect balls, his knuckles white and his nails dragging marks at his palms, above the ones already there, and that he knew it would remain for a few weeks. 

“And Lassiter was really a surprise. For someone who you often fight with I believed it would be an easy choice but I guess it is one of those situations where the bickering and hate are only a façade for the real friendship behind.” 

The smartass smile in Bert’s mouth was so infuriating Shawn decided it would be the first place to meet his hand once he managed to free Juliet from his power.

“But this is what I was waiting for all along. The love!”

Shawn instantly froze. 

“What limits would you cross, how many rules would you break to save your true love? I must admit that Detective O’Hara’s beauty is an unfair variable to this research but the love you feel for her is beyond superficial matters isn’t it Mr. Spencer? Oh no, you love her deeply, willing to do anything for her. Well, are you willing to die for her?”

Juliet tried to say something but Bert increased the pressure on the knife pressed against her back. Shawn stepped a little further, stumbling a bit, still feeling the effects of this new poison in his system. 

“I will die for her! I would die a hundred times for her! Hey, you have your answer, okay? Come on! Let her go, throw me out of this place! You’ll get what you want!”

“And lose the opportunity to analyze the mind of a grieving man? Not a chance”

“NO! Please!” - Shawn never imagined he would be asking a murder for mercy before, but now there was he, begging him to let Juliet go - “Take me, you can dissect my brain or whatever, you can trap me somewhere, I’ll do anything. Please, just let her go!”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer” - A devilish smirk on his face - “Didn’t they teach you that begging is for the weak? I never expected that from you. Any final words?”

_ Bye-bye. _

“NO!”

And then time stopped.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Here's another chap! I'd love to know what were your thoughts about it :) Please, if you feel like, leave a comment! Let's chat :) Thanks for reading!


	4. Unwind

20 seconds passed in slow motion, each movement delayed. Shawn turned his head to find the source of the voice. Lassiter, his gun in hands, his eyes ready to kill. He saw the bullet fly through the air, the perfect aim leading it to the desired place. Bert didn’t have the time to turn and in all his elaborate and meticulous plan he didn’t count on one thing - that Shawn was never alone.

The bullet hit him right in his skull, lodging itself in his brain. He didn't even have the time to react before he was dead, his lifeless body hitting the ground. 

The only thing was that Lassiter was moved by his instincts and miscalculated the distance between Bert and Juliet. The impact pushed her down the bell tower, towards the open garden several feet above. 

Shawn stopped for a millisecond, all emotions at once exploding in his chest, all the adrenaline in his body killing the effect of the poison. He ran faster than he could, than he ever imagined he was able to. 

It was his last chance.

Juliet couldn’t die, she just couldn't. 

He stretched his arm out, all his strength there. 

When he realized time was passing normally again. He was laid down on the tower’s floor, at his side, the body of Bert rested motionless but not less frightening. Lassiter was shouting something to him but his ears were muffled by his heartbeat. Shawn could see a suited figure behind him. The sirens down them were screaming as more and more cars were arriving but the only thing that mattered was her.

Her lightweight on top of him, his arms possessively around her body, as if he let her go she would disappear and he would find her bleeding at the garden. Her rapid breathing and accelerated heart could be felt through his shirt, her head resting in his chest.

He had saved her. 

Juliet was alive. 

He saw a paramedic coming his way and panic raised the surface, if he was trembling before, now he was shaking, the shock overcoming his body.

“Sir? I need you to let her go so we can check on her.”

“No. You’re not taking her away from me. No.”

As childish as it might sound, the slightest idea of Jules away from him terrified Shawn to his very core. Juliet tightened her grip on him, her fingernails clutching his side, not wishing to let go either. He saw Lassiter come close and so did other familiar faces. A little behind he could hear his father's voice.

“Hey, let me through! It’s my son in there.”

“Sir, I believe he’s in shock. We need him to let go of the lady so we can check on them.”

He watched his father crouched down beside him, his look usually so harsh was now staring at him like he was trying to soothe Shawn after a nightmare. 

“Son, hey, this man wants to help. Come on, let Juliet go.”

“NO!”

This time both responded and Henry sighed, that would be hard. He gestured to someone on the back and in seconds Gus was there, his eyes so spooked. He was spiraling inside, and Shawn knew it, but was trying to play it cool for his friend

“Hey, buddy! Hey Juliet! Come on, you two are safe. They only want to help. Please.”

Slowly Shawn put himself in a sitting position, dragging Juliet with him. With a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Gus slowly made his best friend lose his grip on the Detective while Karen, who appeared there without the couple noticing, rested her hand on Juliet’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. 

Finally, they managed to separate them and the paramedics rushed in. One going in Juliet’s direction while the other focused on Shawn. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” - the young detective brushed off the stethoscope from her chest while some other professional was checking her vitals. 

“O’Hara, let the men do their job.”

Lassiter stood beside his partner, his always professional position maintained but his eyes softer than the usual. Relief was stamped in his face, and if he wasn’t so preoccupied with her well-being he would go thank Spencer for saving her life. 

“I’m fine! Shawn needs assistance! He was poisoned! He’s going to di…”

She couldn't finish the words before the realization came and she broke. Lassiter sat down beside her, his arms already around her as Juliet sobbed deeply in his chest, wettening his always so well fixed suit. But he didn’t care, it was O’Hara. She could cry as much as she wanted.

While the forensics team made their way up to start analyzing the crime scene, Shawn was dragged downstairs to the ambulance, so they could inject him with some fluids and try to identify the poison. Chief Vick had found the syringe back in the garden. Henry followed them and so Gus, leaving the partners upstairs. 

Gladly, after some quick check-ups Shawn was clear. His body produced so much adrenaline due to the stress that part of the poison’s strength was cut off, leaving him with no more than a bothering nausea and a good headache.

His father kept pacing in front of the ambulance Shawn was sitting inside, like a mama lion protecting her babies. It was kind of comical seeing him so overprotective but the psychic couldn't forget that the man was kidnapped just like him and was under as much stress and he was. 

“Dad!”

Henry stopped and looked at his son, picturing his 9 years old form rather than his 30’s. He approached the vehicle, coming closer to his boy.

Shawn stared at him, his look undefined, but surely very emotional.

“Thank you, for saving me and...and for earlier. I’m so sorry that…”

“Hey! Son, stop it! We’re in this together. I’ve got your back kiddo.”

He smiled at his father, seeing the fishman do the same. Even being retired for so many years now, Henry never left his cop posture, much like Lassiter. He didn't do hugs but his face could tell more than met the eye. 

“Where’s Gus?”

“He’s with the Chief. He was the one who identified the poison in you. He’s helping the forensics, giving his statement.”

“I have to apologize to him.”

“Shawn! Look at me.” - His father rested one hand at his shoulder, the grip firm but comforting - “This was not your fault. None of this.”

“But…”

“That guy was just a mental person. He’s gone.”

“How, how did you find us?”

“Later I’ll explain. For now, just, rest.”

Shawn nodded, trying to believe in what his father was saying to him but not being able to shake the guilt out of his shoulder. 

At the distance, he saw Juliet walking beside Carlton. Before he could even scream her name, she was already running in his direction. With no warning she threw herself at him, her arms already around his neck, her face buried in his chest. 

“I’ll.. huh… I’ll give you guys some privacy.” 

Henry excused himself but being there or not he wouldn’t be noticed. For now, the love birds only had eyes for each other. 

After a long moment, they broke apart, Juliet inspecting Shawn carefully, to make sure he was fine. He suddenly felt timid under her gaze and all those unspoken words, all the feelings climbed their way up to the surface, rekindling the suppressed flame. 

Shawn wanted to say so much, to tell her for real and without the panic in his voice how much he loved her. To kiss her lips over and over. To reassure her he would never let that happen again and that, yes, he would die for her how many times was necessary to keep her safe. 

But now all he could focus on was the awkwardness between them. Juliet kept staring at him with those very blue eyes, so expectant, dragging him to that pool of emotions hidden inside. She cleaned her throat as if she would start saying something but Shawn beat her, otherwise, he would never say anything.

“Jules, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you in this situation, for endangering your life. If only I knew I…”

“Shawn, are you crazy? I would never blame you for any of this. This man was … This is not your fault, okay? I’m fine. I’m here.”

His eyes glistened under the sunlight and the glowing sirens.

“But you almost weren’t.”

“Hey…”

Scooting him over with her hand, Juliet sat beside Shawn at the edge of the ambulance, intertwining her fingers in his just like he did back at the car. 

“Look, I know this was as horrible as it could be, for both of us. Don’t you think I wasn’t scared to death in those dark rooms, while I waited to deliver you some next note? But you know what kept me going? It was you, Shawn. I was so sure you would save me, that if I had to fight you would be right next to me and, guess what… you saved me, Shawn. I’m here”

He smiled shyly at her, the clouds in his eyes a little less thick. It would be a long road before he forgave himself for all the danger and panic he caused but at least that was a beginning. Just as he did earlier, Shawn planted a soft kiss at Juliet’s hand, caressing it after with his thumb.

They fell in an uncertain silence, some unsolved questions still hanging above their heads, but one, in particular, bothering Shawn. 

“Jules? Where’s Declan, I mean… wasn’t he…?”

“He’s in Italy.”

“What?” - the surprise in his eyes was so genuine and pure, Juliet would’ve probably laughed if she wasn’t so nervous with the path that conversation was going to take. 

“Remember that hotel he bought three weeks ago?”

“Yes.” - He had to shake the memory of their kiss out of his head.

“Well, he’s there dealing with the paperwork.”

“But...He didn’t come back when all this… you know… and… that’s so…” - anger and a slight indignation started to appear at his face, melting Juliet’s heart. 

“I broke up with him, Shawn.”

“You...You did?” - His already widened eyes almost popped out of its sockets and an instant grin formed on his lips, uncertain feelings battling inside his chest - “I mean...that’s….that’s great” - he scratched the back of his neck in an attempt to calm down his nerves.

“I couldn’t stay in an unbalanced relationship, I didn’t love him.”

“Oh...I…”

She smiled at him, so hopeful, for a moment all the hell they had been through the last 15 hours was forgotten, was only he and her in their little bubble. 

Shawn wanted to scream his lungs out, to kiss her until the world ended but before he took any moves, his mind remembered a very important fact. The happiness in his eyes dissolved into a bittersweet pain, his expression deflated, scaring Juliet a little. She couldn’t be wrong about his feelings for her, not after that day, so what could possibly be happening?

He grabbed both of her hands in his, longing his look on them, as if he’s trying to organize his thoughts, before clearing his throat, finally letting the words spill out.

“Jules, you know how much I care about you and...how much you mean to me. But...the thing is...there’s something you don’t know about me and I know that, once I tell you this, everything might be different and I just want you to know that, no matter what, I never, never lied about my feelings for you.”

“Shawn you’re scaring me.”

He took a deep breath, that was it.

“I’m not a psychic.”

“What?”

“I’m not a psychic Jules. I don’t have supernatural powers, I can’t read people’s minds or talk to spirits…”

“But...so… so this entire time you were lying?”

She took her hands out of his, not aware of how much that hurt him, but Shawn was ready, whatever it takes. 

“Yes, Jules. It all started as an innocent lie, to keep my ass out of jail and then everything evolved, and then Gus tagged along…”

“I… I don’t know what to say. Why? And why are you telling me this now?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and Shawn could tell she was trying to suppress the anger inside, but there were other feelings there he couldn't decipher, still, he decided to carry on.

“I called in an anonymous tip on a robbery, but I gave information so precise nobody believed I wasn’t involved in the crime. I was brought in and Lassiter was leading the case. He questioned me and I...I may have insulted him and exposed his secret relationship… Anyways, he was one step away from arresting me and I came up with the psychic façade, to clear my name. They bought it and things escalated from there. Then I met you and, falling for you was never the plan but, the more time we spent together the more I fell. Trust me, Jules, I thought about telling you this so many times, but I knew that if I did, I would lose you and what hurts me the most is that you were the only one who believed in me from the start. You never doubted. That day at the station, when Declan told you the truth, I was about to do the same but he beat me at it and I just left like that. I’m telling you this now because I don’t think it is fair for you to give up on anyone for me without knowing the truth. I don’t regret it though, this lie allowed me to save more lives than I would ever be able to as a cop, the only regret I have is not telling you sooner.”

Shawn looked expectantly at Juliet's eyes waiting for her angry speech, but she remained silent.

“Please, say something…”

“Shawn...I… it’s a lot to take in.”

“I know, and I know how much you hate lying. I just…”

She was about to speak when Chief Vick approached them, checking on both before asking them to get inside the police vehicle. Everyone was going to return to the station. The body was processed and she wanted a meeting. 

Although she sensed some tension, Karen didn't put any efforts in trying to dig it. They were all stressed enough, tired enough. 

Juliet got up, her eyes facing the uncertain while Shawn fiddled his fingers nervously. He wanted to get up and reach her, try to explain once more everything, to justify all his actions from the last 4 years but, if he knew her the much he claimed to know, Jules would need and want her space, so he just stayed there, facing her back, watching her change her weight between her feet, uncertain of the next step. 

In the distance, he saw his father, Lassiter, and Gus coming their way. Without any more words, Juliet walked in their direction, leaving Shawn behind with a newly arrived paramedic who came to take the IV out of his arm. 

He put himself up, still feeling his stomach a little sick and his head hammering with the last conversation, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Thanking the professional, Shawn headed to the spot where all his friends were at. As he came closer, he heard Chief Vick asking them to pair up and enter one of the police cars, as they would be escorted back, avoiding any more “surprises”. 

Shawn looked at Gus, just like when they were teenagers and the teacher asked them to join a partner for the next assignment. But, going against all the bets, Juliet turned to Gus, asking him to join her. He glanced at his best friend and Shawn shrugged his shoulders in reply. A little shy but mostly scared of her insistent look, Gus caved and followed her firm steps towards the nearest car. 

Lassiter joined Chief Vick, already talking about the case and his unbelievable aim. Shawn saw the Chief roll her eyes discreetly and duck inside another vehicle, followed by the long figure of the Head Detective, rambling about himself. For a second Shawn pitted her. Poor woman, it would be a long ride. 

Finding himself alone now, Shawn quickly glanced at his father, not wishing to enlarge it, knowing the man would guess everything before he could even say a word. Henry half smiled at him, and in silence entered the last car waiting for them. Still a little uncertain, Shawn followed his father and closed the door behind him, the car leaving immediately, leading them to an almost two hours commute back to Santa Barbara. 

The men remained silent for a while, Henry glancing the outside while Shawn struggled with his own mind. It was too much. Too much stress, panic, adrenaline, pain. He just wanted to disappear. Moved by his emotion rather than his logic, Shawn spilled the most painful of all battles in his heart. 

“Dad, I told her.”

Henry quickly turned his attention at his son, strangely small, curled at the corner of the seat, the tired and confused eyes asking not for any answers or solutions. He knew what his son was talking about without having to ask, and as much as he always loved to admit how he was right, Henry hated to see his boy like that. Shawn was broken, lost, and didn’t need his piece of advice so, not being logical too, he passed an arm around his son’s shoulder and hugged him like he should have done ages ago. 

In other moments Shawn would claim how awkward that was and demand for that to never repeat, bringing up a joke to light up the sentimental moment he couldn’t deal with, but now, as all the emotions came together at the surface, there was nothing more he wished for, so he let his father hug him, for as long as it lasted. 

“Shawn, everything is going to be okay. Just, try to get some sleep, okay?”

“But, I’m not tir…”

A yawn cut the rest of the sentence, and before he could think more, Shawn was sound asleep. Henry smiled with himself and couldn't help but contemplate that, after all these years, his boy was still the same stubborn, hilarious kid. 

Henry returned his look outside, the trees passing as big green blurs. If he was right and after so many times observing them, Juliet had already forgiven Shawn. In all relationships his son was, Henry saw the dedication and sacrifices he would make for the woman, but with Juliet was different. 

It was love. 

Pure and simple. 

And though everyone believed Shawn was too immature to a lot of things when it came to Juliet, he changed. It was the same love that made Henry fall for Madeline and the one that still makes him love her until this day. 

They would find their way back. 

On the other side of that story, Juliet was sitting beside a nervous Gus, who for sure was panicking inside but still quiet. His quizzical look at her when they first entered the vehicle was gone now but he remained confused with her choice, even so, he chose not to ask anything. 

Juliet stayed in silence until all the questions in her head burned too much. The trauma and fear were pushed back, giving space to all the doubts related to the last revelations from Shawn. 

“Gus?”

The man turned his unfocused look at her, watching her face shift in multiple expressions before she blurted out everything.

“Shawn told me about the…” - she tried to leave it in the air but Gus didn't catch the idea, so Juliet brought her fingers to her temple and all doubts disappeared from the man’s widened eyes.

“Oh...so he did.”

“Yes.”

“Well…”

“Why did he lie? All this time...He could have told me and I don’t understand why, or how does he…”

“Juliet, huh... With all respect, there are things I believe Shawn should be the one to give you an explanation about, but, for what I can say…” - Gus changed his position in the seat, turning so he could face her better, still unsure of what to say but knowing, somehow, he had to clear up some truths he knew Shawn wouldn’t do right away, or even admit to himself - “Look, the thing is… Shawn is brilliant. He always had this amazing talent to find clues and creativity enough to come up with the craziest ideas. But, even though I like Mr. Spencer very much, the guy transformed Shawn into a version of what he believed it could become the best cop the police department has ever had.”

“What do you mean?”   
  


“For all the time I've known Shawn, it was always like this, we were playing or even he was hanging out with his father, and suddenly, it was cop training time. Mr. Spencer would interrupt our movie sessions to ask Shawn how many hats were in the room, lock him inside a trunk to teach him how to escape a possible kidnapping, leave him in the middle of the forest to teach him survival skills. I mean, I know he had the best intentions, but imagine growing up like that.”

Juliet’s gaze dropped, as all the information was hitting her, destroying the concepts she formed of Shawn based strictly on his lie and not on all the incredible other things he’s capable of doing and ignoring this part of his life he never shares with anyone. 

“I was there Juliet, through it all. I’ve seen Shawn lie about a lot of things, and he mainly does that to escape either from situations he creates or the ones he can’t handle. I’ve seen the worst of him and the best. All this happened before you and I’ve seen him struggle more than once with the possibility of telling you the truth. But one thing I can guarantee you, he never lied to you about how he feels, and if you need any proof I guess this whole situation is enough to tell you about his character.”

She felt ashamed. Sure she had the right to be mad at him but there was so much more to care about than that. Shawn was more than his fake psychic act and his stupid shenanigans. He had shown, more times than she could count, he would be there for her no matter what. He willed to give his life for her. And there, Juliet knew she had already forgiven him. 

“Thank you, Gus.”

“No problem. Just...Hear him out, be patient.”

“I will.”

“And please, don’t break his heart. I can’t handle a whining Shawn sleeping on my couch and stealing my cereal.” 

Gus smiled at her and she knew that the joke tone of that sentence didn’t take the truth out from it.

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

They made the rest of the trip back into silence, Juliet reflecting about Gus’ words and he lost in whatever thought he was. The car parked in front of the station and they were escorted inside. To the side she could see offices restraining a curious crowd of journalists, trying to get at the bottom of that story while one of the supervisors of the department was giving a brief statement in an attempt to distract and get them out of there. 

Gus and the Detective made their way inside, meeting with the rest of the team. Chief signed them to follow her to her office and closed the door behind her. Lassiter was nervously playing with his tie, ready to blurt out all the conclusions he had taken from the case but he kept shut under the authoritative gaze of Karen. All of them there had something to say, but the clueless pair, Juliet and Shawn, were the ones needing an explanation the most.

Thinking about her next words, the Chief walked around her table, resting her weight against it, concentrating in her speech.

“Well, as you all know, the criminal behind all this, Bert Hill, is dead. Thanks to detective Lassiter, he was taken down before anything worse happened. Sadly, him being one of our own, all of you, including consultants, will be submitted to evaluation and we’ll try to avoid this from ever happening again. Your houses have been searched and all is cleared and secured. We took the liberty of installing a distress system to provide faster assistance in case anything similar to this situation occurs. I will need a statement from all of you as soon as possible but, for today I want you all back at home and please try to get some rest. Tomorrow we can deal with the paperwork. And I’m assigning you a therapist and all of you, no exceptions, will be consulting with her, myself included.”

Her empathetic eyes were trying to give reassurance to a group of people who, on different levels, were experiencing the same panic as her, and even being safe and out of danger, for now, a near-death experience wasn’t that easy, and fast to move from. 

Henry and Lassiter were about to protest, but her sharp glare silenced them. She observed her team for a few seconds when she caught Shawn, hiding in the very back, with his hand raised. 

“Yes, Mr. Spencer.”

“How did you… you know….?”

“Well… Detective Lassiter was the first one to escape. He had the idea of ducking into a trap door under the piano. When Mr. Guster’s apartment got on fire, it gave him time to run away. He went down to see the extension of the fire when he saw Mr. Guster had escaped. They took advantage of the smoke and ran away, trying to find our team but Bert had already moved us to a van. I can’t affirm how much we interfered with his plan but I’m sure he didn’t count with the two surviving. They came back to the police station and started to retrace the steps and Mr. Guster remembered seeing the green car parked outside the scenario. He concluded it was the same car used in the movie Psycho and from there they both traced a plan to come to rescue us. When you, Mr. Spencer, saved me and your father back at the house, you fell from the stairs and it was enough time for a trap door to open under us. We fell on a tunnel leading to what was supposed to be the same vehicle we were in previously, but Lassiter intercepted it, taking down the driver, who was Bert Hill’s partner and brother, Ethan Hill, and saved us. From there we called reinforcement and prepared an ambush for him.”

“And you conclude the last movie based on the note I dropped on the floor, back at the house, right?”

“Yes. From there we had all we needed to make the arrest. Taking a shortcut we kept out of his tracking and arrived in time for all the disclosure.”

Shawn nodded, absorbing the story, his mind vividly retracing the steps of a situation he wasn’t in. Sure a lot of details and explanations were missing but he didn’t have the energy to bring that conversation any minute further. Juliet quickly glanced at him, observing his troubled mind drift away from there. 

“If there are no more questions, you’re all dismissed.”

They started to move, ready to leave but Shawn’s words stopped them.

“I...I just wanted to apologize for this. I know it…”

“Mr. Spencer!” - Karen’s firm voice cut him - “There’s no reason for you to blame yourself. This was not your fault. That man was ….insane not to say the worst. Go home, get some rest. Tomorrow we will sort this out.” 

Shawn nodded, mimicking the small smile on Karen’s face. He headed out along with the rest of them. Lassiter stopped him and with a sincere tone thanked Shawn for saving his partner’s life. The psychic answered the man politely and watched him disappear inside the bullpen. 

Gus, a few steps away, looked at his friend, and Shawn hadn’t to say anything. They hugged, all those years of friendship teaching them that unverbalized communication. 

Shawn had almost lost Gus that night.

It wouldn't happen again. 

They moved apart, and both knew everything would be okay.

Henry approached the duo, ready to offer a place in his car when he saw Juliet coming and sensed he wouldn’t be needed. 

“Come on Gus, let me give you a ride home.”

“But…my car is just outside...” - for a second, like always, Gus didn’t get the lead, but the sight of Juliet gave him some clarity - “Oh, no, sure. Let’s, let’s go. Bye Shawn.”

“HEY! I don’t even get a ride? After all this?”

Outraged, he watched the men go away, leaving him behind. He ruffed, rolling his eyes before he realized Juliet at his side.

He opened his mouth, wishing to say so much, but found himself muted, frozen in his step. He observed her watch him curiously, something else in her gaze before she spoke.

“Do you need a ride?”

Shawn shoved his hands on the pocket of the suit he still had on, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

“I guess so. Thank you.”

He followed her to the green beetle, taking the passenger seat like he did so many times in the past. She pulled out of there, and in silence, they drove. At each second the air was thinner and Shawn wondered how much longer he would be able to stay there without suffocating. 

Usually, being in her presence was one of the most enjoyable moments of his day but now, as all those unspoken matters were rising to the surface, begging to be discussed, it was getting harder and harder to enjoy the ride. 

The glorious blue sky was now covered with some fluffy clouds here and there, the sun of 4 P.M. already walking to its final destination a few hours from now, downing at the ocean creating that enormous orange glow, reflecting its last rays in the water, dividing sky from sea. 

Shawn observed as Juliet passed by the left turn to his street and drove straight away, taking the path that he knew would lead to her own place. Instead of asking, he remained silent, fearing that any word would burst that uncertain bubble leaving them with unsolved issues. 

A few minutes later she parked her car in front of a small but very elegant house that Shawn had visited inside only two times. Once to accompany her after a department dinner a few blocks from there and she offered him a cup of tea to warm him up after the chilly walk they took until there, and the other when she needed some help with assembling a coffee table. 

Juliet turned off the car, her hands still on the wheel. Shawn watched her close and open her eyes, pondering her words, to which he respected until she was ready. 

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

He was genuinely confused, expecting a thousand questions but that one. Her usual transparent blue eyes were intense now, darker. 

“How do you do it? How do you solve the crimes?”

“Oh.” - His heart accelerated a bit as he searched the best way to explain to her how his confused brain worked. - “I have an Eidetic memory.”

Her quizzical expression signed him to explain further.

“How can I… Do you know what photograph memory is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s basically that but it doesn’t work only with images. I can remember pretty much everything I hear, see, or touch.”

“So...you remember everything?”

“Yeah. Every detail. As time passes the images are tossed in my subconscious but, whatever object, smell, or sound related to it triggers back the memory, a lot of times more than one.”

“Oh… that’s… so all the cases…”

“When I say I had a psychic vision or feeling it is because either I and Gus snooped around for clues or I noticed something at the crime scene or anywhere else that made me connect the puzzle.” 

Juliet looked astonished, to say the least, her mind burning with questions, trying to recall all the cases they did together, all the times he gave credit to his “psychic” abilities when in fact it was just his incredible brain all the time. 

“Shawn… this is amazing. You’re a genius. How come you never told anyone...you could...”

“Listen” - He signed frustrated, passing a hand through his thick hair, trying to verbalize truths no one knew and he was often too scared to admit. - “Most of my abilities were increased, developed, because of my dad’s insane cop training. Most people with Eidetic memory lose part of this ability when they grow up but my dad made sure to take the best advantage of this. I guess that’s why I always hated the idea of being a cop, although I kind of became one in the end. I...I was ashamed. I am ashamed of this and attribute it to something else, some supernatural power... It's a strange… my strange way to be normal.”

Carefully, Juliet reached for his hand, putting it between hers, caressing them with her thumb while she absorbed it all. Shawn kept staring at her, unsure of where he was standing now if that would conclude with her still shutting him out of her life or just pushing him back to where they were when she still didn’t know about his lie. 

“Why would you want to be normal when your true self is incredible?”

The sincerity in her words sent a small shiver down his spine and he never saw her look at him that way before. 

“Because it’s too much. I know it sounds incredible remembering everything but that also means the bad memories. The happy ones are easy to deal with, but while everyone can forget or ignore a bad one, a painful one, I simply can’t, having it coming back at me once in a while.”

Juliet felt her eyes tearing up, taking consciousness of how deep that was and how hard his life must be. All great gifts come with a price and the one Shawn paid wasn’t cheap. She could imagine how many nights those hurtful moments kept him awake, haunted him. His vulnerability, all walls tearing down in front of her, revealing a Shawn Juliet had never met before. 

“Can you show it to me?”

“Show what?”

“How does your memory work?” 

“Sure. What do you wanna know?”

“The first time we met…”

“You were wearing an orange sweater with white laces at the end of the sleeves, your hair was down, a little longer than now and wavy. You had golden hoop earrings and a watch on your left wrist, a black skirt, and a kind of beige-colored high heels.”

“Woah, Shawn. That’s ...impressive. I don’t remember half of those things.”

“Also, there were six tables, two against the front window one with a lady wearing a checkered shirt and the other with a guy in a white button shirt, and four against the counter, one with two friends talking and drinking coffee, other with a guy reading the newspaper, one with a middle-aged lady in a blue shirt eating pancakes and probably her daughter with her and the last one was a corner booth with a young couple. Two waitresses in pink dresses.”

“Shawn, I…”

“Oh, and there was a sign outside, announcing the special that day. Eggs Benny 8.50, pancakes or classic breakfast 7.80”

Juliet stared at him speechless. She was a great cop and was very proud of herself for all the job she had done so far and how her perception skills only improved since her academy days. Still, that was far more accurate and precise than anything she would ever be able to do. 

She was astonished, to say the least, and all her face could express was the most sincere admiration at the man sitting in front of her.

“Woah, that’s … you’re amazing Shawn. Truly.”

He gave her a small smile, but there was still sadness in his eyes, and the lack of his so often jokes or movie references throughout that entire time gave their whole conversation a seriousness she didn’t expect. 

“Look, Jules, I’m really sorry for everything. I don’t blame you for being angry and I don’t expect your forgiveness… but I can’t promise you I’ll stop lying about this to others. The psychic thing is the way I found of helping people and, eventually, they will find out the truth, but until then, I’ll keep doing what I have to do to save the ones I can.”

She longed her eyes on him, silent. Taking her hands out of his, she grabbed the car keys and opened her door. 

“Come on, get inside. I’ll find something for us to eat.”

He remained seated, not sure if he understood well but when she signed him to follow her, Shawn got out of the car and did. 

Juliet unlocked her front door, opening the way for him to enter too. She tossed the key at a side table and headed to her kitchen, taking two beers out of the fridge. Handing one to Shawn, she sat beside him on her couch, taking a sip of the beverage before resting it at the coffee table he had assembled for her so many months before. 

She watched him do the same, sensing there was more on that conversation to be discussed.

“Shawn… I just realized I never thanked you for saving my life.”

“Jules… you know I…”

“Let me finish, please.”

“Okay.”

“Back there, when all was happening and I was sure that was the end, I heard you say you would give your life for me and...I realized I would do the same for you.”

His eyes widened, a small grin forming on his lips as all the doubts and fears were slowly melting away, like snow under the sun. 

“I didn’t want to say this back then because we’re so caught up by emotion and fear, and I know we still are … but I wanted to mean it when I say, and now, after all, after everything you told me I have no doubts. I love you, Shawn Spencer.”

The small grin became a wide one, his heart racing like a wild horse. He closed the space between them, his face inches away from her, almost like the “close talking” he so much enjoyed having with her. 

“I love you too Jules, since the first time you rolled your eyes at me.”

She smiled and he crashed his lips on hers, in a tender kiss. All the pain and doubt dismantled as their lips moved. Juliet passed her arms around his neck, feeling his own around her waist. They stayed there until breathing was necessary and they had to part. Shawn planted a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling like for the first time in forever he had done something right. 

Juliet rested her head between his shoulder and neck, her hand above his heart, feeling the raced pounding under her palm, ensuring herself for the hundredth time they were safe and he was alive. 

They stayed there until their beers were warm until the sunset invaded the room with its orange rays painting the opposite wall with their embraced shadow. 

Not wanting to separate from him but finding it necessary, Juliet put herself up and headed to her room, dying for a shower and to change from the clothes she was in, the last physical trace of that horrible nightmare their night was. Sensing Shawn was feeling the same way she returned to the living room a few moments later in her pajamas, half-dried hair, and handed him a towel, a pair of sweatpants, and an old t-shirt her brother had left there when he first helped her move. 

Shawn gladly accepted it, finding his way to her bathroom, allowing the hot water to wash away the last unpleasant events of his life. Changing to that simpler clothing, much more comfortable than anything else, he picked his beaten up suit, along with Jules’ one, and tossed them on the trash, just outside the front door. 

Now all was left was the memories. 

He returned inside, finding her curled up in a ball, at the corner of her couch. She automatically embraced Shawn when he sat beside her, his wet hair leaving little drops of water at her shirt, and they watched a random cartoon, their attention split between the TV and that bell tower. 

They ordered some food but their lack of hunger didn’t allow them to finish the meal. Instead, they stayed there, tangled in each other's embrace until Juliet fell asleep. Her soft snores comforted Shawn’s heart. He caressed her hair, detangling the strands with delicacy, attempting to brush off all the threatening images he knew were in her head. 

After a while he decided to put Jules in her bed, where she could rest properly. He passed one of his arms under her knees while the other went to her back, her head never leaving his shoulder. Shawn easily made the short way to her bedroom, carefully setting her on the mattress, as not to wake her up. He then turned to search for a blanket for her and one for him as well. The couch would do because there was no way he would let her stay there unguarded even knowing she slept with a gun under her pillow. 

He found a pink blanket perfectly folded at the corner, on top of a red one he picked for himself. Shawn turned to cover her up and leave when her soft grip stopped him.

“Hey, I’m sorry Jules. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Her sleepy eyes gave her an adorable expression. 

“Stay.”

“Oh, I’ll. Already picked my blanket and was heading to the cou…”

“No. Stay here, with me.”

He was caught by surprise, his cheeks going a little flustered, but he knew she was afraid of being alone and he couldn't say he wasn’t too. 

Standing up, Shawn put the red blanket back where it belonged and went around to the other side of the bed. He climbed up, laying beside Juliet. As if they were back at the couch, she tangled her arms around his torso, her head resting on his chest, the sweet perfume of her hair invading his nose. 

Shawn smiled contently, knowing that no matter what nightmares they had, or how hard would be to move on from those 17 hours, having Jules by his side made him sure he could overcome anything. 

He lowered his head down, to kiss the top of her head but Juliet raised it, meeting his lips instead, earning a wide smile and the most admirable look from him. 

“I love you Jules.”

She smiled at him, her eyes already closed, and snuggled even further in his embrace. He tightened his grip just a little, just to be sure she was safe. 

Right after, he heard her snores return and she was out like a light. 

Contently he breathed relieved. 

They found their way back.

They would be okay.

With one last kiss on her head, Shawn allowed himself to relax, feeling the sleep coming to take him to dreamland. 

And slowly he drifted away, humming La Vie en Rose as his vision was invaded by Juliet dressed in a pink dress dancing along with him. 

  
  


_ Hold me close and hold me fast _

_ The magic spell you cast _

_ This is la vie en rose _

_ When you kiss me, heaven sighs _

_ And though I close my eyes _

_ I see la vie en rose _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the final chap! I hope you enjoyed this small journey :) Please, if you feel like, leave a comment, I'll love to hear your thoughts, comments or anything else that crosses your mind!  
> Thank you for reading and I look forward to see you in my next stories :)


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